Home of a mother, wife, writer

Posts tagged ‘fiction’

Wyatt barely spared his father a glance. He was still smarting from the last argument they’d had. “I live two streets over, Dad. Are you counting the whole two cars I passed?”

His dad barked out a laugh. “Right. Everything okay?”

“Fine.”

“Wyatt…”

Wyatt just kept moving through the house. He couldn’t stand to even be close to his father right now. It was dramatic, he knew that. But, he needed to sort through his thoughts before he could handle it.

He walked into the kitchen and his mom turned from the sink. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Mama.”

She took one look at his face, then sighed and shook her head. “You are still fighting with your father. Why must you?”

“I’m not doing anything. He made his opinion very clear, and I made it equally as clear that I do not appreciate it. There’s not really anywhere to go from there.”

“I hate when you two fight. Even when neither of you are right.”

“Mom…”

She shook her head. “I know love isn’t quite logical, but he’s just worried about you. He may not have handled it well, but it’s because he does care about you.”

“I don’t need him to protect me. Kaden isn’t going to do anything to hurt me. Dad would realize that if he even got to know him at all. He didn’t get protective with Andres.”

“You were sixteen when you were with him, and had already been friends for several years. And if you didn’t think he worried, especially when you both joined the Army, you’re wrong. He just doesn’t always show it the best way.”

Wyatt wasn’t quite sure he believed that, but he let it go for now. Nothing he could do about his father’s feelings, especially not when he was just barely managing his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was to use words ending with -ic or -ical. I have more with Wyatt and Kaden, well Wyatt. I have a feeling this isn’t the first time he and his father have butted heads.

This is the first of this month’s Story a Day posts. I won’t be writing every single day, though I’m planning for each weekday, and one story over the weekends(may correspond with my weekly SOCS post). I also may post some of them to my Patreon instead of here on the blog. And I’m choosing one of the prompts at random each day instead of going in order.

Note: This is pretty rough, since I just wrote it today. Just a quick proofread for obvious typos. So, here you go:

The problem with going through life one day at a time, each in order is that it leaves too many questions unanswered. Just why did that event happen, what was the other side thinking, what would have happened if that one person had been standing in a different spot.
Thankfully, I’ve never had to worry about living that way.
I stepped out from behind the building where I had come into this place. It wasn’t the first time I’d been here, and I knew this was a safe time to suddenly appear. Mostly because there was no one else around.
I adjusted the bowler hat on my head and fixed the way my string tie sat. I could pull this look off better than that of a cowboy or miner. No one would question a slightly fairer looking gambler. But, it would get me into more places than if I’d traveled here as a woman.
On my last trip, I’d managed to listen in on a meeting of a couple members of the Vigilance Committee. I knew exactly what they had planned. I just hadn’t been able to make it to the boat in time to stop it. I wouldn’t waste the opportunity this time.
I’d grown up listening to stories of the bravery of my great-great-great-great-great grandfather and could never believe the stories the history books told of him simply getting drunk and tripping over the side of the boat into the river. I was determined to prove exactly what happened to Old Tommy. I had been from the moment Uncle Thomas, a name that had apparently been passed down through the generations, had shown me what we could do.
‘It is a serious responsibility,’ he’d told me that day. And I’d always taken it seriously. You couldn’t just change history at your whim. But what had been done to my all those greats grandpa was wrong. And that was something I would rectify, whether it made it into the history books or not.
No one stopped me as I walked down the street or when I rented a horse from the livery stable. If I’d come here as a woman, that never would have been the case. Uncle Thomas had been right when he’d said to go in whatever guise would get me where I needed to go.
I rode as fast as I could. Now, all that time Uncle Thomas had spent teaching me to ride, shoot, and play cards—I think he spent more time with me than my own father did—made a lot more sense. I’d always wondered why he’d taken so much more interest in me than my brothers.
When Fort Benton came into view, I slowed the horse but kept to the other side of the river, glad for lights from the steamboats on the river, providing enough light to read the names on the sides of them. When I came to the G.A. Thompson I slid down from the saddle, leaving the reins trailing on the ground. I didn’t know if the horse would stay or not, but if not, he’d likely return to town and the stable he called home. No harm would be done.
I could already see a figure standing at the railing of the ship. Was that him? It had to be.
He started to turn away, but another figure came up behind him, swinging something toward his head. I opened my mouth to call out a warning, but it was too late even for that. I watched as the first figure scrabbled for the railing but then he shot straight down for the churning water of the river.
A moment later I moved. The horse hadn’t moved, so I tied one end of a length of rope around the saddle horn and the other around my waist. Then, I moved closer to shore and dove in. Falling into that water would likely mean instant death, but I couldn’t fail now.
The current carried me until I caught up to the body that had caught on a log. I tugged him free and started swimming toward the shore. The rope must have almost uncoiled all the way. I was surprised I hadn’t reached the end of it before I found him. I never would have made it back to shore without it.
It felt like I was being pulled the last few feet, then I was on solid ground and dragging a historical figure up with me. Once I’d cleared the water out of his lungs, and he was breathing, I sat back on my heels. His eyes finally opened, and he looked up at me. “Who are ye?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Today I’m your guardian angel, Thomas Francis Meagher.”

~~~~~~

This one was inspired by a biography of Meagher I listened to earlier this year. Since his body was never found in the river, it made me wonder if he actually died(probably yes, but my writer’s mind ran away from me).

“I heard you talkin’ to your sister-in-law. About your latest project. Is that why you’re here. To make the poor, sad, lonely Irish boy feel better ’bout himself. Then, you’ll go back home to America.”

It wasn’t guilt that flashed into her eyes, but anger. “Is that really what you think of me, Caelen Dougherty? That I’d just string you along then cut the line. I’m not like that.”

“I heard what you said,” he replied stubbornly.

“You heard what you wanted to,” she retorted. “I know you’ve got abandonment issues, and I get that. I’ve got a set of my own. It doesn’t mean you need to projectyour fears onto me and think you know what I’m thinking.”

Shame washed through him. Maybe she was right. About his fears and taking it out on her. He wasn’t sure which one made him feel worse. “Alaina-”

“No,” she said, slapping a hand against his chest. “You don’t get to accuse me, then try to just smooth things over. If you really want to know, I was talking about a project. Something I’m making. That I was going to give you for Christmas. But, if you’re just going to be a donkey’s ass about it, I just may have changed my mind, and I’ll just scrap the whole thing.”

He just stared at her as she stomped out of the room. She was making him a gift? He hadn’t even gone out and bought her anything yet. Well, now, didn’t he feel the idiot? And still, he wanted to follow her. Lord knew it would probably be a mistake in her current temper. And that temper only drew him to her more. And he wasn’t sure what to do about that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can tell you, Caelen! haha. Anyway, this is my sacrifice to the gods of Stream of Consciousness Saturday…oh, wait, there are no gods of SOCS, you say? My bad. Sorry, I seem to be in a goofy mood this morning. No idea why. Anyway, I’ve shared a few other pieces that will likely make it into Heart of Christmas, but I haven’t had anything from Caelen’s pov yet. I think these two should be interesting to write.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that I had some plans for the back story novellas I started sharing here. But, I never said any more about it. Well, I’ve been quietly working on getting my Patreon page set up. Yes, I’ve decided to do this. I figured it could be a way to make some extra money from my writing, and possibly even a steadier stream of income than I’ve been making from my books. I was willing to at least give it a chance.

So, I’ve got my page set up and finished typing the first piece to share there. You may have read it before as it showed up in the first World Unknown Review. Most of the other ones I’ll share will probably be shorter, though some may end up longer. And I’m planning to share the back story novellas chapter by chapter. For now I’ll only be sharing Patrick & Sarah’s & Tavin & Haiwee’s, since those are the only ones where the main stories have been published.

I’m going to be going through my published novels and making lists of the little side stories I can write from them, side characters, back stories, or even some “after the HEA” moments. If you’ve read any of my novels and have any ideas for more I can write, I’d be glad to see what they are.

I skipped last week’s prompt, mostly because I couldn’t come up with anything for it. But, I’ve had something simmering in my head since I saw the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt yesterday. We have a busy day(ok, we’re busy through Monday), but I’m going to try to get it down before we have to get going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I do know how to cook, you know?” Alaina said. “You don’t have to hover.”

Declan laughed from behind her. “Trust me, I know you can. We probably wouldn’t have survived if I’d had to do the cooking.”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her older brother. They may bicker, but she was so grateful to have him in her life, especially after their mother had died and her stepfather hadn’t stuck around. He’d sacrificed a lot to finish raising her, and that’s something she’d never forget. “I’m sure you would have figured it out.” She went back to stirring the bowl in front of her. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back for the wedding.”

“You could have,” he said, but she didn’t hear any censure in the words. “If you would’ve accepted my offer.”

She closed her eyes. He had offered to pay for her ticket back to Texas for the wedding. But, after everything he’d done for her, she couldn’t accept more from him. “No, I couldn’t,” she said softly.

She smiled ever as tears welled in her eyes. She had missed her big brother, even as much as she loved it here. “You know Uncle Niall and Aunt Eileen are glad you, Eva, and Dani were able to make it for Christmas. They were afraid something might come up.” Not that she was sure what. She didn’t even know exactly what her brother did, except install security. But, she didn’t understand how that had gotten him shot–twice–over the summer.

“I said we’d be here. I wouldn’t have broken that promise unless I couldn’t help it. You know that.”

She did. and she didn’t say it, but she was even happier he was here. She liked being here in Ireland with her father’s family, but she’d missed Declan. He took a step back but didn’t go far. “Now, before Aunt Eileen comes in and kicks me out of the kitchen, what’s this I hear about some friends that will be joining us.”

Alaina could feel her face warm, but she kept her gaze on the ingredients she was measuring. “I’m sure she told you, they’re friends of Sean’s.”

“Yes. She also told me one of them has been paying an awful lot of attention to you.”

That actually wasn’t Sean’s friend. It was his younger brother. “They don’t have much in the way of family, either. Braeden helped raise Caelan, just like you. They’re going to spend the holidays here. I don’t know what else there is to know.”

“How about how you feel about him?”

She turned to him then and tried to control her flush, though that was nearly impossible. “I feel that I’m a grown woman now, and what I feel is my business.”

He scowled for a moment then burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what Eva told me, too.”

“I like your wife, Declan.”

His smile was soft as he said, “Yeah, I do, too.” He took another step back and said, “I’ll get out of your hair now. Go see if Dani’s back from the barn with Uncle Niall yet.”

The whole family had taken instantly to Declan’s new stepdaughter, and Alaina was especially happy her brother had found this happiness. He deserved it, maybe more than any of them. And she hoped she could find it one day, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know how far this will go, but I’ve been thinking about writing a novella about Declan’s sister since I wrote Protecting the Heart, even though this series was only supposed to be a trilogy. So, I may work on this once I finish Defending the Heart.

Today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt is to use “pretty” somehow in the post. I was trying to figure out how to use it toward one of my current project, then another character started waving his arms around. I wrote “Midas’ Daughter” back in May for the Story a Day challenge. Then I revised it and submitted it for the World Unknown Review. Well, I heard back about that on Monday, and it wasn’t accepted(neither was my other submission unfortunately). But, I decided to take her comments on it and flesh it out some more, maybe even add in POVs from the other characters, and possibly turn it into a novella(maybe novellete if it falls short of novella length). Then…I don’t know. First, I have to rewrite it, then I’ll decide what happens next. but, today, I’ll be looking at events from another character’s perspective(without looking back at the original. right now, I just have the first line in my head).

He’d seen Calla walk past the stable not too long ago. Of course, she hadn’t even looked in here. He’d only been able to sneak peeks of her the last several days. She wouldn’t stay away by choice, so he knew exactly who was making it this way.

Not that he could ever have her. Old Man Midas had made that clear the first time he showed interest. He was just a stable hand and would never deserve her. Neither did that creep her father was currently pushing at her. The mare nudged his shoulder as if she sensed his mood. He patted her neck once more than moved toward the door to the stall. He had more chores to see to.

But, he’d barely made it halfway through the next stall before Ariadne pawed at the stall and snorted. she wasn’t usually high-tempered, so he knew something was up. He moved back toward her then heard the raised voices outside. He couldn’t make out any of the words, but he recognized one of the voices. Calla. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He wanted to do something, wanted to make everything better for her. But, what could he do? He knew what would happen if he made a scene out there. He’d be fired, and if she needed him he wouldn’t be here any longer.

He needed to be here just in case things went bad. And he couldn’t see them going good with the direction they’d taken.

The other voice rose even more, and Ariadne’s ear went back flat. His own chest felt tight, claws digging deep into him. “I know, pretty girl,” he said, trying to soothe the animal. “I don’t much care for him, either. But, the important thing is if Calla does.” He rubbed her neck, taking as much comfort from her as he was giving. This pain in his chest was almost too much to bear. But, he’d known for a long time that Calla was the only one who could take it away. “We’ve already chosen her. She just has to choose us back.”

And he was afraid that was never going to happen. It would mean fighting back against her father. And she’d never done that before. He’d offer her whatever strength he had to make sure she could do that. It just meant he had to stick around as long as he could. He wouldn’t give up yet. He would never give up on them until she made that choice.

After I read this week’s prompt of using a word that ends in -est for Stream of Consciousness Saturday, a bit of dialogue popped into my head between two characters for the story I’m currently plotting out. Then, this morning I thought about talking about my latestrelease. But, then I hopped back over to the fiction idea. Though I will probably tag on a note about that release on the end of this post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It would be better if you stay away from me, Denise. I don’t know-”

“Then, it’s a good thing I do, Toby,” she said, not letting him finish. “I’ve known you at least twenty years now, haven’t I?”

“Give or take,” he admitted. “But, you were a kid. You didn’t know anything about me.”

“Was I ever a typical kid, though? Even before…he died, I knew stuff little kids shouldn’t know. Jared tried to protect me from the worst of it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t see. Just like I always saw you.”

“If that was true, you’d understand why-”

She interrupted him again. She was always doing that, and it drove him crazy.

“I do understand, Toby, I just think you’re wrong. Do you really think you just happened to find me all those times I ran from those homes? I was always trying to find you.”

“Why would you do that?”

She rolled her eyes, and yeah, she must have driven him crazy, because that gesture had him grinning suddenly. “Other than Jared, you were the strongest, bravest, smartestperson I knew. You were the best person I knew, Toby, other than my brother. Why wouldn’t I have come to find you?”

He could only stare at her. Yep, absolutely crazy. For her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No idea where this will come in the story. maybe in the middle, so they can think, at least for a little while, that everything will be okay. Cause I’m just mean like that.

As I said above, I have a new release out. Stained by Ashes, the second book in my Stained series. If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can even read it for free. And the first book, Stained Snow, is free through Monday.